


Red Suits and Backwards Baseball Caps

by thelilging



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: F/M, Lifeguard Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:24:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilging/pseuds/thelilging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: "there's a really rude person not respecting the rules and I'm the lifeguard trying to kick them out, but I hate getting into conflict, so you decided to come and save me"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Suits and Backwards Baseball Caps

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this half-finished fic sitting on my laptop forever, so I thought I would take advantage of this rainy day to do something semi-productive! (Actual productivity would involve me working on college apps, and that is way too far out of the realm of possibility to even think about doing.)

The first time Bellamy Blake actually walks into the pool, it's definitely not because he wants to. He had dropped Octavia off earlier, as had become their usual summer routine, and the little shit was repeatedly ignoring his texts and phone calls. Never mind the fact that he has an actual job to get to and that she comes to the pool with the same friends every damn day. Parenting his fifteen-year-old sister is even more of a pain the ass than he had expected.

He explains the situation to the suspicious teenage girl working at the front desk (“Seriously, I'm not trying to get in for free. Do I look like I'm going to go swimming? In a button down and khakis?”) and bullies his way into the pool area, where he promptly stumbles upon Octavia, hot pink swim goggles on her forehead and water dripping from her long dark ponytail onto her back, deep in conversation with a cute blonde lifeguard.

“...C'mon,” Octavia is saying. “This is your job. They're being idiots. You just have to tell them to knock it off.”

The blonde frowns and glowers in the direction of the group of high school boys who are, based upon Bellamy's two-second evaluation, just being giant assholes. A couple throw a Nerf football back and forth in the sand, stepping all over a chubby boy's sandcastle. The kid, who can't be older than second grade, doesn't say anything, but his trembling bottom lip gives him away. The other boys are laughing boisterously as they sit in the sand, not bothering to hide how they check out the girls that walk past. Sometimes they even catcall. _Jesus._ Why has Bellamy ever let Octavia come here?!

“O?” he asks.

Octavia jumps and spins towards him. The blonde girl looks up at him over Octavia's shoulder and immediately flushes.

“Bellamy!” Octavia whines. “Why are you in here?”

Bellamy's only slightly put out at how mortified his little sister sounds. “You're late, O. You were supposed to meet me outside fifteen minutes ago.”

Octavia's eyes flicker to the clock that sits above the concession stand. “Oops. But Bell, we're having a crisis. They won't stop and Clarke's too scared to really give it to them.”

“I wouldn't say scared...” the blonde lifeguard interjects.

“Okay, fine,” Octavia sighs. “She's too nice of a person to actually tell them to knock it off.”

The blonde ducks her head uncomfortably. “I don't like conflict,” she defends herself.

Bellamy chances a look at his watch and groans. “I don't have time for this. I'll go talk to them.”

He shoulders his way past Octavia and the lifeguard. The assholes' eyes widen when they get a good look at Bellamy, who might very well have steam coming out of his ears at this point, and they hastily start to pack their stupid Nerf footballs up.

“Come on, Octavia,” he says, not giving the boys a second look as he walks away. “I'm already late.”

“Bye, Clarke!” Octavia calls as Bellamy drags her along.

 

*

 

The second time Bellamy walks into the pool, it still isn't because he wants to.

“This will be a good bonding experience for us,” Octavia assures him as she pulls him along.

“Octavia, no one over the age of sixteen and under the age of thirty-five comes here,” he complains.

“Exactly,” Octavia shrugs. “There won't be any bitchy girls to steal you away from your precious younger sister.”

That one hurts. It's not Bellamy's fault that girls follow him wherever he goes... Okay, that makes him sound like an asshole. But the fact of the matter is, girls like him. And he really does feel bad that they seem to always sniff him out whenever he and O are trying to get some brother-sister bonding time in. “Don't swear,” is all he mutters as he pays the fee for admission to the community pool.

Octavia is sprawled across her hot pink beach towel, half-asleep and attempting to tan despite Bellamy's insistence upon SPF 50 sunscreen, when a shadow falls across Bellamy's history textbook. He looks up to see the blonde lifeguard from before standing over them. Clare? Chloe?

“Clarke, right?” he asks.

“I never got a chance to say thanks for what you did last week,” she says quietly, fingers fiddling with the silver whistle that hangs from around her neck.

Bellamy shrugs. “It was nothing. Have they come back?”

“Nope.”

She wears a pair of tight black shorts over her red one-piece uniform, and her messy blonde ponytail sticks out from underneath a backwards black baseball cap.

“No offense-” Bellamy begins.

Clarke plops down next to him with a scowl. “If you have to say 'no offense,' you're probably about to say something offensive,” she says drily.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he grumbles. “Why are you a lifeguard if you're too afraid to tell some high school boys to stop being jerks to everyone else at the pool? It's literally your entire job description.”

“Because I like relying on cute older guys to do my job for me.”

“Funny.”

Clarke grins up at him cheekily.

“Clarke,” Octavia speaks up, only her mouth moving, “are you single?”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “Uh, I guess.”

“You guess or you are?” Octavia persists.

“I am?”

“So is Bell,” Octavia says smugly.

“Aw, Christ, Octavia,” Bellamy whines.

Clarke blushes and glances at the clock hanging behind the concessions stand. “Well, my break's over.”

“Bellamy's free literally every night,” Octavia calls after her.

Clarke rolls her eyes and sends them a wave over her shoulder as she walks away. Bellamy shoves Octavia, trying very hard not to look at Clarke's ass.

 

*

 

“So,” Bellamy says later as he drives Octavia home from the pool, trying very hard to sound casual and disinterested, “how old is Clarke?”

Octavia isn't an idiot. “Oh my god, you like her!” she squeals. “She's nineteen. She's basically perfect for you.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy scowls.

Octavia grins for the rest of the ride home.

 

*

 

The next time Bellamy sees one of Clarke's red lifeguarding uniforms, he discovers it balled up in the corner of his bedroom as he is gathering up his laundry to the tune of Clarke humming in the shower. He's not quite sure how it got there, since he's certain that he would remember a swimsuit-clad Clarke in his bedroom, but he just smiles to himself and tosses it into the laundry basket with his own clothes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what ya thought:)


End file.
